


Burnt and broken

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, M/M, Wings, burn marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 10:51:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8010796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean starts his mission. Nothing could stop him now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burnt and broken

Dean glanced in the mirror, his grey shirt discarded on the floor behind him somewhere. A jet black outline of a pair of wings was branded into his chest and back and no matter how hard Dean scrubbed at his skin or how many cuts and bruises he got, you could always see them.

The sadder part was he couldn’t even remember where he got them. It clearly wasn’t a tattoo, who would bother to mark them on Dean’s body anyway. He believed they were from an Angel dying. Recently, he had killed his first angel and it left wings by its sides.

Was Dean close with an Angel? He hoped not; they were all dicks as far as he was concerned. Suddenly, a memory shot through his skull. This had never happened before! What was going on?

 

 

Pain seared through Dean’s freckled skin though none of it compared to the emptiness in his heart. He clung to the limp body in his arms, completely ignoring the fight around him. He’d lost everything; Sam was in the cage, Benny was back in purgatory and Bobby’s neck was still snapped.

The fight soon ended and Dean hadn’t moved a muscle. Human bodies, which had once contained Demons and Angels, littered the ground and Dean blended in surprising well.

He was unmoving, just like all the dead humans. He was pale white, just like all the other dead humans. He occasionally twitched, just like all the other dead humans.

He dared not to release a breath, just like all the other dead humans. Dean kneeled there and stared, stared into the once electrifying blue eyes but now they just seemed dull, exactly like the raging sea in the middle of an awful storm.

He didn't know how long he sat there, slowly rocking backwards and forwards, careful that his fallen companion didn’t fall off his knees. He didn’t know how many tears had run down his face. He didn’t know and he didn’t care; he felt empty.

Eventually, an Angel had appeared, requesting that Dean ‘let Heaven take the body and perform their Angelic ritual.’ or something like that. Dean didn’t care enough to listen. He just wanted his Angel back, and if he couldn’t get that then he wanted peace.

“I know he was your friend. He was my friend too. Please, let me take his body back to his home.”

“His home wasn’t Heaven!” Dean spat, his voice croaky from not speaking for at least a day. “His home wasn’t with the people that cast him down. His home was with me, his home was with the people he loved and cared about.

The Angel stepped forward into Dean’s vision, earning a hard glare from him. ‘Alfie,’ as the creature’s name tag read, held his hands up in surrender.

“Please. Heaven’s very keen to get that body back, they said...” Dean zoned out after that, returning his gaze back to his lover. The feeling of despair in his gut gradually shifted into something worse: anger. He wanted the people who did this to his angel dead. The least he could kill Demon that stabbed him before he offed himself.

Pushing himself to his feet and brushing himself off, Dean suddenly grabbed the Angel blade, which was still clenched in his companion’s hand, and forced it through Alfie’s heart, smiling in satisfaction when he emitted a light glow before going limp.

Dean walked away from his body, it wasn't like he would be coming back from the dead, again, anytime soon. He was finished. Dean’s grip on the blade tightened when he saw two creatures in suits leaning against his black, dirt-covered car.

He plunged the knife into the closest one, before ducking, narrowly missing the second Angel’s attack, and stabbing the other abomination. He grinning to himself when the life left their eyes.

 

Castiel, the Angel of the Lord who had fallen for Dean, was dead.

And there was nothing Dean could do.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this. I did write this a while ago and I really appreciate any feedback.


End file.
